Lost Within the Circles
by Snowthorn
Summary: It is Business as usual within the Citadel, however, when a murderer pays a visit to the Stewards Family, it is up to Boromir to protect his brother, and his father, from their Mother's Murderer. AU. Dedicated to Eambar
1. Lord Faramir

_**Disclaimer – I do not own this. Neither does my friend Professor Know It All. We simply do this for fun and intend no infringement. **_

_**A/N**_

_**Snowthorn – I and Professor are writing this because we were bored and also because we were very much inspired by Eambar. Her stories "The Horn of Gondor" and "Manchild of Mundburg" are not to be missed. Please, looker he up and read her stories. **_

_Dedicated to – Eambar, for we adore her!! Never have I come across another fan fiction writer who takes more care in the intricacies of her a.u. universe than she who researches practically everything! _

_With love, Professor Know It All and Snowthorn, respectfully. _

_**Lost within the Circles**_

_**Part 1 – His Lord Faramir of the House of Hurin**_

_**Seven Year Old, Lord Faramir sat on the ramparts over looking the Palenor fields. **_The sun had just started to set, sending red and yellow glows across the field. This was Faramir's favorite part of the day, it was at this time that the problems of everyday Citadel life could just fade into the background of one's mind. The part of the day when he found that he could be more a child than the second son of Lord Denethor II, Ruling Steward of Gondor till the Return of their King.

Boromir, twelve now, watched his brother from the comfort of Faramir's apartments behind the boy. He didn't like to intrude on this time, the time when Faramir stilled himself in readiness of the next day. It was something that they all did, they all found their own places to pass some time of their own.

However, Faramir wasn't selfish in this time; he turned and waved his brother over to the ramparts to enjoy the setting of the sun with him. Below, Knights of the Citadel and other's on this, the third patrol of the city, had just gotten their relief and were either on their way home, to a pub or the barracks as they pleased. The bell located at the barracks rang six times, which echoed about the white stone. The first of the night shift were taking up their posts now.

"What do you suppose military life shall be?" Faramir asked.

"It is always war with us, I wonder if we shall ever think of taking a picnic without fear of roving orcs," Boromir replied.

"I want to be a bowman," Faramir turned to look up at his older brother. Boromir was taller than Faramir, which led to some believing that not only was Faramir the lesser son, but also the weakest. This was not true; Faramir could strike a target on the nose if he wanted.

"Do you? I must admit that Master Amuir is quite taken with your skills," Boromir replied.

"Bah!" Faramir threw up his hands and rolled his eyes to the heavens before them, "Amuir is an idiot, always in the drinks he is," Faramir informed.

"Really…?" Boromir blinked. He also took lessons from Amuir, the man never seemed to be drunk to him. Boromir said so and Faramir just pinched his nose in return.

"Of course he wouldn't dare be drunk around you. Why do you think he said nothing to our Lord Father when I shot him in the arse?"

"Bite your tongue!" Boromir said, more for the "swear" than anything else.

"Well, its true. He was roving about and got in my way, I decided that since he was too drunk to see where he was going, why should I let this chance go by the wayside? Besides, all the other Esquires thought it hilarious," Faramir giggled. Boromir chuckled and shook his head.

"All right, Fox, if you were a bowman, where would you be stationed?" Boromir asked.

"Ithilian, they are always wanting people," Faramir replied. The shine in his blue eyes almost broke Boromir's heart. He couldn't tell Faramir how terrible it was at Ithilian, it was the post that no one really wanted, but all the best bowmen and trackers went there. At least Five hundred bunkered down at the Refuge. They stood in line for socks, not at all washed, and stood in rainy weather all the time.

Boromir took his thoughts from the dire situation of the Refuge, of which he would have to accost his father to fix if those men were to survive the winter, and returned once again to Faramir who was rubbing his arms. Boromir steered his younger brother into the heat of the apartment.

"Do not leave the rooms open to the elements tonight, dear brother, for it is cold and you will get sick," Boromir cautioned as he locked the glass doors behind them.

"Ninny! I am not so thick as to do that, I know when it is a good time for a small breeze and a terrible time for a snow drift within my room!" Faramir giggled.

"Ah, I see that I have taught you all that you need to know then," Boromir laughed.

"Not quite," Faramir replied.

"What have I not taught you, minx?"

"I want to hear about the fall of Numenor," Faramir replied.

"Oh, that…haven't you heard it though?" Boromir grinned.

"No, father won't let me and Master Broomcost, think I cannot understand,"

"Broomcost is a twit, that is why he cannot find any other job within the city other than Master Scholar," Boromir replied.

"Well, that isn't very nice," Faramir giggled.

"But it is true! I have had to set you straight on the line of Stewards how many times now?" Boromir laughed.

"About nine-hundred," Faramir replied.

"Did you honestly count how many times we went over it?" Boromir scratched his ear.

"Yes, the last just yesterday,"

"Well, I think I shall have to find us a new scholar, now then, Little One, go get ready for bed. I shall have something brought up from the kitchens and I shall tell you the story of the Fall of Numenor," Boromir replied. He never could deny his younger brother of anything, not when Faramir was so sweet.

---

Boromir was tired of paper work, here he was, at twelve years old, figuring out what to do about supply lines to the out lying patrols than what sweet he was to have with his luncheon that day. Not that Boromir minded, Being Captain General of the Gondor was wonderful and even though he was still but a child, he did it better than the former Captain General and that was saying something.

Of course, when it was found out that Kaltin of Minis Terith was the one that slowly poisoned the Queen Finduilas while she had born Faramir, he had been swiftly arrested. However, and this was the detail that galled Boromir, the man had escaped the dungeons. No one could say how, but the man had done it.

Boromir still saw red when he thought of the man who murdered his mother and who had almost ruined the family over Faramir. They had not been sure in the beginning if Faramir would survive his formative years because of the poison their mother died from. The poison couldn't eve be identified. Which terrified Boromir even more.

He swore, not for the last time and not for the first, that if he ever laid eyes upon Kaltin, he would kill the man. He would take revenge for his family. He would then let the memory of his mother lay in peace. For when she haunted his dreams, he knew that could never go back on this oath.

Boromir signed off on an order and set it aside for an esquire to deliver when he was brought luncheon. Setting to work on another, Boromir swiftly forgot about Kaltin and the evil the man wove, still, around the family.

---

A/N – Right, rather short. But we do plan to continue this. So please look for an update!

Ta,

Snowthorn and Professor Know It All


	2. A Wonderful Excursion

**Lost Within the Circles**

**Part 2 - a wonderful Excursion**

**Boromir pushed Faramir out of bed, gently.** He had gained permission from their father, no matter how easy it actually was to twist Denethor to his way of thinking. That both he and Faramir needed a bit of fun, he wasn't about to tell Faramir that! No, he was going to let Faramir think whatever he wanted.

They did not dress in the livery of the Citadel, or the House of Hurin. Instead, they both wore nondescript brown leggings, blue tunics and scuffed up boots that they had in their closets for this exact purpose. The only thing of identification that they wore were identical rings with the symbol of the Steward's Heir upon each, one with a ruby and one with blue to help tell apart which went to which child. Boromir put a silver chain through Faramir's ring and clasped it about his brother's neck before he did the same with his own.

"Now, we mustn't tell anyone who we are, there are plenty of people who would like to get us to get to father," Boromir explained.

"Then why the rings? Shouldn't we leave them?"

"No, if anything happens, I shall call a guard and let them know who we are, and if we are separated you are to find the closest guard and show him the ring," Boromir replied.

"All right," Faramir nodded his head.

"Look at what I have," Boromir now changed the subject, "We can eat in the market and maybe get the candies you like so much," he said.

"Can you get your favorites?"

"I shall," Boromir promised. There was enough money there for anything they wanted and some for emergencies. True, Denethor didn't believe in spoiling his boys, however, sometimes the boys did deserve a treat and outside of sending them to Lebennin with their Uncle. This, with the increasing Orc Patrols and Haradrim encroaching upon the boarders of Southern and Northern Ithilian, was near impossible.

Faramir could hardly contain him self with the thought of this treat. He never could remember having any pocket money. Boromir handed him four coins.

"We're going to stay in the fifth circle, that's two from the Citadel and so it shouldn't take us long to get back, don't put those coins in a pocket with holes, you'll need those if we do get lost," Boromir said.

"I won't lose them," Faramir promised.

"Good, let's go then,"

___

"Brother, I cannot believe that you dragged us here," the Noldo breathed, none around could have heard him except for his twin brother.

"Be hush, we haven't actually seen Minas Tirith," the second twin replied, his voice just as low, but with their better hearing, could very well hear one another.

"All of this noise is giving me a headache! My ear tips shall be bruised by the end of this little visit," Elrohir muttered.

"Come, let's find a nice place to stay," Elledan replied. It would be nice to get a bath and some food after their long march with the Rangers of the West. They had departed from the Hiding Place four days before, had gone on through Lebennin and crossed the Anduin. It was about time that they returned to their home, though they might take a detour through the Greenwood to visit their long lived friend, Legolas Greenleaf, the Prince of Greenwood.

The two Elves made their way through the streets, they got through the gates easily, seeing as how the one gate one must give a name was the first, and only entrance into the city while the other seven gates was more to denote different class of people, business, and life.

The two found themselves in the fifth circle where they came across an Inn that had rooms that looked out of the wall of the city and onto the fields. It was one of these rooms that the brothers were given. Everything was made of stone, but with the large windows that gave in enough sun light and the tapestries of a forest, it didn't feel hard pressing to the Elves.

Elrohir swept his hair away from his face where he had been obliged to let it hang through their journey in the city; "Well, this is nice," he muttered. The tested one of the twin beds with his finger, the blankets were soft, it smelled unnaturally clean. In a corner was a copper bath tub with clawed feet. A pipe sprouted from the wall and when a chain was pulled, hot water would pour into the bath tub.

"This is nice, and here you were worried about a public bathhouse," Elledan laughed, tinkling bells filled the air about them.

"True, how much more did you pay for this?" Elrohir asked.

"Not much, just a farthing more, Adar gave us plenty, I thought a good rest before we started back home would be nice," Elledan shrugged.

"Well, you first then, I shall find us something to eat, shall I?" Elrohir replied. He took up a dark green sash and tied it about his head, most of the tip of his ear was covered and so disguised the fact that he was an Elf.

"All right then," Elledan nodded. Elrohir took a knife or two before Elledan handed him some coin and he was on his way.

___

There was just too much to look at, Faramir decided. The toy shop had been the first thing the boys looked at, wondering about for several minutes before Boromir purchased two sets of toy soldiers, one with the white tree painted upon their chests, and the other completely in black, no markings on the black soldiers, but that hardly mattered. He had decided that he and Faramir could recreate several Gondorian Battles that their Tutor was always talking about. Not only that, but Boromir always liked the army and coming up with interesting ways to defeat an enemy was good practice for later. At thirteen he, Boromir, knew that he would be apprenticed to a Captain or General within his father's army and learn the art of war from them; same with Faramir, even if the boy favored the longbow.

While Faramir wondered what to get for their lunch, for he wanted to do it himself, Boromir waited by an outside picnic area where he and Faramir could enjoy their luncheon, along with others, mostly mothers with their own young children. It was here that Boromir spied a cart selling weapons. Now, usually he wouldn't bother, but, these looked to be of great craftsman work and so he decided that it wouldn't hurt to look.

The old man sitting behind the make shift counter, was snoring, Boromir shrugged and perused the weapons. There were daggers and swords, practice swords, bows and longbows. On the wall behind the old man he spied a boy that was Faramir's height.

"Excuse me," Boromir said, the old man's eye popped open, they were blue.

"Yes, young sir?"

"I would like that bow there," Boromir pointed to the one he wanted.

"It'll take more than copper to buy that, son,"

"How about gold…?"

Boromir handed over the coin, his bag wasn't even empty, Denethor had probably gifted his boys with more than they needed, but Boromir planned on giving a donation to the children's home on their way to the Citadel.

It was then, as the old man wrapped up the longbow, along with a quiver of arrows that a scream rented through the air. Boromir didn't have to wonder, he knew who it had been.

Faramir!

---

**Longbows** were used by the Europeans for ages (excepting modern day where it is no longer used for war fare). These bows are usually as long as the person using it, it takes about 50-200 pounds to shoot a longbow, but can be done. The most notable of longbows are the African Elephant Longbow and the English longbow. Of course, the English weren't the only people to use it, other who also used the longbow were the Native American Indians, Nubians, Curds and Arabs.

A Note On Spelling – I use the Encyclopedia of Arda for my spelling, not counting the first chapter.


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